Quote

Perhaps some day I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.

Sylvia Plath

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

Sylvia Plath
Age: 30 †
Born: 1932
Born: October 27
Died: 1963
Died: February 11
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Victoria Lucas
Sylvia Plath Hughes
Stories
Beaten
Home
Defeated
Back
Feminism
Long
Classic
Make
Chaos
Sorrow
Perhaps
Crawl
Beauty
Heartbreak

More quotes by Sylvia Plath

Image
I do not know who I am tonight.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Perhaps you considered yourself an oracle, Mouthpiece of the dead, or of some god or other. Thirty years now I have labored To dredge the silt from your throat. I am none the wiser.
Sylvia Plath
Image
We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I think that as far as language goes I'm an American, I'm afraid, my accent is American, my way of talk is an American way of talk, I'm an old-fashioned American. That's probably one of the reasons why I'm in England now and why I'll always stay in England.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I feel terribly vulnerable and 'not-myself' when I'm not writing.
Sylvia Plath
Image
A skeptic, I would ask for consistency first of all.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I felt the mask crumple, the great poisonous store of corrosive ashes begin to spew out of my mouth.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.
Sylvia Plath
Image
No day is safe from news of you.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I decided I would put off the novel until I had gone to Europe and had a lover, and that I would never learn a word of shorthand. If I never learned shorthand I would never have to use it.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling.
Sylvia Plath
Image
If I didn’t think, I’d be much happier.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead I lift my eyes and all is born again.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Go out and do something. It isn’t your room that’s a prison, it’s yourself.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Your room is not your prison. You are.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Is anyone anywhere happy?
Sylvia Plath
Image
Beached under the spumy blooms, we lie Sea-sick and fever-dry.
Sylvia Plath
Image
I am accused. I dream of massacres. I am a garden of black and red agonies. I drink them, Hating myself, hating and fearing. And now the world conceives Its end and runs toward it, arms held out in love.
Sylvia Plath
Image
Tomorrow is another day toward death.
Sylvia Plath
Image
There is a charge For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge For the hearing of my heart - It really goes. And there is a charge, a very large charge, For a word or a touch Or a bit of blood Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
Sylvia Plath